


Things Don't Always Work Out The Way They're Supposed To

by macachee



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Gen, Hurt Danny, concerned mansons and foleys, not very good parents, regretful fentons, sorry - Freeform, wardrobe change!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8506768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macachee/pseuds/macachee
Summary: Danny tries to tell his parents the truth. It doesn't exactly end the way that he had hoped.





	

_**‘How did it go so wrong no no nO NO No. Why was I so stupid?!?’** _

 

_“Jazz...I think...I think that it’s time that we told Mom and Dad.”_

 

_**‘How could I think that ghost hunters could accept having a ghost for a child?!?’** _

 

_“Mom, Dad, I...I need to tell you something…”_

 

**_He opened his eyes and felt cool metal straps, locking him into place as he desperately tried to_ ** **_struggle-_ **

 

_"Hey, Mom, Dad, have you seen Danny..."_

 

**_A scream fell through pink lips, her fingers scrambling for a key-_ **

 

_"Jazz, sweetie, what are you doing-"_

 

**_Pleas fell from his mouth like blood, he backed away into a corner-_ **

 

_“Mom! Dad! Stop! Can’t you see that it’s Dan-”_

_“Get out of my son you ectoplasmic scumbag!”_

 

_**The charge of a weapon, deadly green against his skin-** _

 

_“Please, please stop…”_

 

**_Pure white hair bloodstained by betrayal._ **

 

_“Run, Jazz, we’ll get that abomination out of our son.”_

_“No, stop! You’re hurting him!”_

 

**_Eyes desperately searching for an escape, hand pressed against the gaping wound-_ **

 

_“Jack, stop him, he’s getting away!”_

 

**_He collapsed against the floor, Sam’s startled gasp in his mind, the last thing he heard before-_ **

 

**Darkness.**

 

 

 

 

He heard the rumbling of an engine and felt the bumps of a gravelly road. He slowly pried open his crystal blue eyes, though his vision wasn't as much so, as he had to wait a few moments for his vision to clear.

"Sam? Tucker?" he forced the two precious words through his chapped lips along with a few pained groans. He directed his vision to the front seat, where one of the two aforementioned sat, the other placed right next to him. A pair of eyes immediately fixed upon his injured body.

"Danny! You're okay!" Tucker, seated beside him, attempted to hug him, but thankfully remembered at the last moment the wound that was currently bandaged, withdrawing cautiously. The gashes, as Danny duly noted, still hurt like a bitch. He groaned and attempted to sit up, immediately regretting it a few seconds later.

"Stop! You're going to snap your stitches," Sam exclaimed, keeping her eyes firmly on the road. "And, believe me, they won't be fun to do again."

For once, Danny heeded her advice and settled down, hissing through his teeth. "Where are we?" he asked, attempting to distract himself from the pain.

"We're almost to Nebraska," Tucker replied, to which Danny let out a startled gasp.

"What?!? That's almost ten hours away! How long have I been asleep?"

To this, Tucker looked at Sam with uncertainty.

"Almost twelve." She finally glanced back, and Danny finally noticed the changes.

Instead of the shoulder-length raven hair she had once had, she had a ragged violet pixie cut on one side and a pitch black buzz cut on the other. Her striking amethyst eyes had been transformed to brown, and she sported about four piercings in one ear. Glancing at tucker revealed fewer, but just as striking changes as well; his signature beret was missing and his hair had been dyed a bright blond. Danny  absent-mindedly wished for a mirror.

Sam finally noticed the stares. "What, this? We're too noticeable, especially you, Danny. We had to make a few minor changes."

Tucker handed him a mirror. He looked...well, he basically looked like both halves of himself mashed together. He looked up questioningly, and she said, "We couldn't change anything for you. Anything we tried disappeared in a few seconds. _You_ did that, though I have no idea how."

"Yeah, me neither." They were quiet for a few moments.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"No."

"...okay."

 

 

 

A while later, it finally sank in. His own parents had tried to kill him. Although, he strangely didn't blame them. It was stupid of him to try to get them to understand anyway. A stray tear fell from his eye, unnoticed by his two closest friends that sat in the front, talking quietly to each other. He could hear every concerned whisper, every quiet thought, but he kept that to himself. They continued down the unfamiliar roads with rock blasting in their ears, a delightful contrast with the depressing mood.

 

 

When they stopped at a gas station for food and other supplies, he absentmindedly noticed the change in fashion; a plaid shirt, ripped jeans, and hiking boots for Sam, a vaguely hipster ensemble for Tucker, and a dark mix of the two for him. It was interesting how little he cared about the change. It seemed to fit, though. They were runaways, even illegal in Tucker's case, and they needed a whole new façade, including different demeanor, personalities, and different looks. They, for once, needed to fit into the crowd. And while they never would, not entirely, they did as much as they could.

 

 

Jazz called some time later. She was safely in her dorm, where no parents were allowed except for in emergencies. Her eighteen-year-old younger brother leaving home didn't qualify. She would help with the money, she said, so that they could avoid using Sam's credit cards as much as possible. She had brought a hefty sum of paper money with her, but they all knew that it would not last long, especially in the chilly autumn that was coming to an end, and that would soon give way to the even colder winter.

 

 

 

The Mansons and Foleys panicked when their children were not found in their beds the next day. They received no explanations when they rushed to the Fentons', just teary eyes and regretful expressions.

 

 

Unknown by the siblings and friends, the family responsible for the debacle realized their mistakes. There was no way that, if their son had been possessed, Phantom could have transformed from one form to another like he did. Tears dripped through the eyes of both as the desperately tried to fix the pain that they had inflicted. Missing papers, pleas to friends around the globe, and credit card tracking was all in vain. Sadly, gazing painfully at the abandoned, bloody scalpels and the smoking weapons, they realized that nothing could fix what they had done.

 

 

Many motels, states, and gas stations later, Danny wondered how they could ever keep this up.

**Author's Note:**

> I know that it is crap and that it is short. I just saw a piece on tumblr that I loved and I wanted to recreate it in my own style.


End file.
